“Papa!” The front door slammed open, allowing the hot air to blow right on in. It may have been September but the heat of summer was still pounding down on them. “Papa…,” she put a whine behind it this time. He turned to face her, lifting one of his eyebrows. “Yes?” There was a slight…
“Agh!” The ancient tome’s pages fluttered as it skittered across the weathered floorboards. A woman with ink-stained hands grimaced as she ran them through dark, frazzled hair. She sighed and slumped to the floor, narrowly avoiding the small, delicate white line that encompassed her work. The crisp, thin lines were easy to miss at first…
The Ghost of a too-trusting Private Investigator wants to expose the lies of a cultist, but has to sort through false memories.
A Scribe wants to find a treasury trove that was left unfinished by its creator.
An Agoraphobe finds a soap that grants them telepathy.
A Demonologist’s backstory about how they had gotten stuck as an ambassador without a translator. They have an embarrassing blunder with a sadistic quill that grants them languages. They’re forced to overshare their thoughts. A romantic partner is about to find out about this backstory.
The Lake of Prophets, known for being a natural well of magic and producing alchemical plants/water, is the site of an infamous monster slaying. A portal has reappeared once more, but no one knows where it goes. BONUS An undead rogue goes to this lake for a rare alchemical plant, only to find an egg…
There is an ice town founded by traitors, for they began hunting ice deer. It’s a town filled with bustling taverns. There’s been a drop in the trade of magical animal parts due to overhunting. One of the headquarters of the Hunt is a tavern owned by a decommissioned monster hunter. It’s the local place…